


Over, Above and Through

by Cephy



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Drugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-05
Updated: 2006-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reno had, once, kept his feet until he fell over instead of lying down.  Rude doubts he's changed much since then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over, Above and Through

Rude stops in the door to the examination room, and watches his partner face off against the nurses on duty.

"I don't _need_ no fuckin' observation, yo. You know this shit's non-lethal, whatever the hell it is, so what does it matter if I sleep it off at home instead of here?"

Several of the nurses look uncertain, like they might want to believe him; the rest look stubborn, set on upholding their protocols even if it means facing down a cranky Turk. They have Reno surrounded, hemmed in next to the little paper-covered cot they call a bed. To one side is a rolling table, strewn with bits of equipment-- thermometer, penlight, tipless syringe, several reddened cotton balls in a metal pan. A tiny, feathered dart with some wetness still glistening on its tip.

"Look, I'm _fine_, just get off my fuckin' back and let me outta here, already."

Rude watches his partner's face, studies the way his irritably-gesturing arms move. Rude looks at the twisted little curl to those lips, the casual angle of the shoulders, and he can't help but feel impressed. The show Reno is putting on is well-acted, all but flawless to a casual observer.

But there's a year and half of parntership between them, and Rude knows better.

Rude casts a look around, notes the extra staff gathered around the door, sees the bloodied, brawling SOLDIERs staring a bit too curiously in their direction. Looks back and, watching carefully, sees the slight tremor in Reno's arms that Reno would sooner stick himself with a dozen more drugged darts than give in to in front of so many people. Reno had, once, kept his feet until he fell over instead of lying down. Rude doubts he's changed much since then.

Rude steps into the room, coming in close by a nurse's shoulder, looking impassively down through dark lenses when she turns her head. She takes half a step back before she even seems to realize what she's doing-- as does the one next to her when Rude steps forward again. Reno, well-trained as he is, sees the opportunity and takes advantage of it, aiming for the hole in the circle and breaking smoothly through. He is swiftly gone out the door with a careless comment and an even more careless wave, and Rude a bare step behind.

They start down the hallway without needing to discuss it, matching paces automatically. But by the time they climb the stairs, Reno's breath is audibly hitching, coming far more quickly than it should. The tension coming off his carefully casual form is palpable.

Just past their usual lounge is an plain, dark door, which Rude pushes unceremoniously open. The room behind it is small and square and grey-- the Turks use it when pulling overnight shifts, and hence it contains a narrow bed pushed against one wall and little else.

Rude closes the door and locks it behind them, and is there to catch Reno when his knees finally buckle.

"Shit," Reno hisses. "Shit, shit, shit--" His muscles are twitching, spasming, looking painful and awkward as he staggers a step. "Fuckin' stupid of me. Shoulda been watching the ones by the door."

Rude shrugs. "You were outnumbered. There were more guards there than we'd counted on."

Reno snarls at the offered reassurance, though Rude thinks his anger is more at himself and the situation despite the sharpness of his glare. "Still shoulda been watching. Fuckin' careless."

Rude just shrugs again, not arguing. He steers Reno towards the bed, noting the sweat beading on Reno's face, the fact that his hands are now obviously shaking. Reno sits, leaning bonelessly back against the wall-- not hiding the grimace that crosses his face, and not pretending to have more strength left than he does. Still, a moment later Reno is up and trying to pace, working through the pain, still cursing out a long muttered string of sound. Rude wordlessly falls in beside him, steadying him when his muscles disobey. Letting the long, low growl of words pass over him unheeded. Half-carrying the other man to the bed when his legs finally refuse to hold him up, and ignoring the single, unwilling tear that escapes Reno's control.

Time passes too slowly. Reno all but writhes on the bed, moving in little jerks and twists. Rude can only sit nearby, bearing witness to the lip that's bitten to keep sound behind it, to the hands clenched tight enough to leave red crescents on palms-- standing guard, while his partner can't guard himself.

And after a time, it seems to ease-- Reno lies still at last, though his face is tight and he grimaces occasionally, breathing slowly and deliberately. Rude waits until his partner rolls onto one side, curls his body, tilts his head so that their eyes can meet. "Better?"

Reno moves in something like a shrug. "Sorta. Though-- fuckin' hell, it still feels like I got broken glass under my skin." He pauses, looking restlessly around the room before turning back to Rude. "C'mere."

Rude arches one eyebrow, and waits.

Reno rolls his eyes. "Don't be an ass, just c'mere. I ain't gonna feel better until I can sleep, and I ain't gonna sleep feeling like _this_. I need somethin' to distract me."

The second eyebrow joins the first. "So?"

Reno gives him a withering stare, then manages something that's almost his usual smirk. "So, get over here and fuck me. Never been any better kinda distraction, yo. C'mon, partner," he adds almost desperately, when Rude still doesn't move, "give me somethin' else to feel."

Rude's not surprised, not really-- fucking's never far from Reno's mind. The man had once ambushed Rude on a stakeout, sucked him off while perched precariously on a roof in the snow. This, in comparison, is almost commonplace; a little pain has never been a deterrent for them before.

Still, the tightness around Reno's eyes gives the impression of more than a _little_ pain, and Rude hesitates before standing and loosening his tie, moving to the bed. He feels the subtle spasming of his partner's muscles in the shaking of the matress beneath him, and notes the tension in the shoulder that his hand curls around. Reno's lips, however, are hard and eager when they clamp onto his, and while the arms that snake around his neck are shaking, they grip tight enough to bruise.

Reno takes a long time to come aroused, which more than anything speaks for the state he's in. He's only half-hard when he writhes into a familiar position-- legs hooked up, knees wide-- and rubs wet fingers in a brief tease against Rude's cock before using them to slick Rude's own hand. The noise Reno makes in his throat is demanding, easing off only when Rude slides his fingers inside, moves them automatically to press in the way that never fails to make Reno shudder-- and before he can even begin to reconsider he's sliding forward into a tight, clenching heat, and all thoughts of protest fade and die.

And through it all-- those lips still on his, licking, tugging, devouring, making Rude's mouth tingle and a shudder creep down his spine. Reno kisses hot enough to burn, when he's willing to shut up long enough to devote his attention to it. This time, apparently, is one of those rare occasions-- the only sounds he makes are far from words.

The lips withdraw, briefly, and Reno's tongue makes a hot, wet path along his jaw. Rude clenches his teeth, shudders, and comes. When he looks up again, there is a familiar look of smug, sly satisfaction on Reno's face, to which he just rolls his eyes.

When he runs a hand down Reno's body he finds the other man still only just hard, and Reno's grin falters a fraction when Rude meets his eyes. Rude holds that gaze as he slides a finger back into Reno's body to touch him as he likes best, as he moves down his partner's body to use his mouth to full effect. They've been partners for a year and a half; it's not so difficult to use what he's learned in that time to make Reno writhe in an entirely different way, letting the lines of pain be eased into something else. Rude is relentless, hitting all of the right places and pressing just enough to eventually drag his partner gasping over the edge.

After, Reno seems drowsy, which is a relief-- there is still a faint pinched look to his eyes and a whiteness to his lips, but he at least seems less aware of it. He starts to drift off before Rude has even finished sitting up, and barely shifts when Rude pulls the bedsheets up to cover him.

At the foot of the bed, a PHS rings in an abandoned pocket-- Rude grabs for it, cutting the sound off quickly. He flips it open, holds it to his ear and waits.

"The blood tests are back," Tseng's voice says. "The drug is expected to be fully metabolized by midday tomorrow, and they say his symptoms should have already passed the worst stage." There is a brief hesitation, accompanied by the distant sounds of paper rustling. "Tell Reno he is off-duty until the day after tomorrow. You are off-duty until tomorrow night, but you _will_ report on time for the evening shift."

Rude makes some small noise of acknowledgment, and the phone clicks and goes dead against his ear. Slowly, he reaches out and slips it back into his jacket.

He looks down to find Reno half awake, staring back at him out of one slitted eye before settling back to the pillow. The redhead draws in a deep, shuddering breath and visibly tries to relax as he lets it hiss back out.

Rude settles next to him, leaning against the headboard, scratching the fingers of one hand slowly through Reno's hair. When a lingering spasm of muscles makes a limb jerk, he kneads at it gently but fimly, spreading the flat of his hand over it and pressing until the twitching stops.

Fingers lace with his, bring his hand up until lips can brush against his wrist in as much thanks as he'll ever get. In the morning, Rude knows, he will leave while Reno still sleeps, and the next time they see each other none of this will have happened. They will go back to work, and Reno will be cocky, mouthy, arrogant, as if he was never weak and shaking through the gleam of wetness in his eyes. They won't speak of it, because Reno is a stubborn bastard, and a proud one, and that, Rude thinks, is just the way things ought to be.

He reaches out and flicks the switch by the bed, and the room's main lights die away. He settles in silence to wait through the night.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Got Your Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/171808) by [mystiri1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1)




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